Ivaylo let out a slow, thoughtful sigh before giving his answer, his tone the perfect blend of polite concession and measured optimism, the kind only a seasoned merchant of high pedigree could master.
"I would have preferred a few more acres for the vineyard, but… I understand where you stand and where I stand. The terms are acceptable."
His words were smooth, even. Professional as they let out a small hint of regret.
He had conducted a hundred such negotiations in his life and would likely conduct a hundred more.
But behind that carefully composed expression, his thoughts burned with a different tone altogether.
Fifteen acres… for just 900 silverii?By all the gods, they're practically giving it away.
He had expected some form of stiff, guarded arrangement—perhaps a lease steeped in caution or an agreement loaded with clause after clause. But this? This was generosity masquerading as prudence. The up-front fee was little more than ceremonial.
